


Vixen - The Reboot

by Tabula_Rasa622



Series: Vixens [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 23:44:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15060398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabula_Rasa622/pseuds/Tabula_Rasa622
Summary: A reimagining of Season 7 - Tara is alive and well, until a new slayer arrives in town.Also, a backstory to Tara's origins.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I uploaded this about a year ago, then life caught up with me. I've deleted the original, and reworked what I had. More to come. Find me on Tumblr Tabularasa622

Tara ran her hand over the deck of cards spread in front of her. The young witch had been divining for quite some time, however, this reading was as clear as mud to her. Every time she was about to receive a vision or interpretation, her mind went blank.“Hey, baby, whatcha doin?”It was her girlfriend, Willow. The red-haired witch moved quietly across the room, her skirt tail swishing around her boots. Since they had got together, both of their styles had changed. Willow had gone from IT nerd dungarees to bohemian chic with deep shades of red and green taking over her wardrobe. Flowing skirts and eastern patterns were a staple for her now. Tara was once reserved and contracted in overflowing, large, baggy tops and pants. She’d had no sense of style. Now, she wore pinks and blues, earth mother, spirit guide. Chopsticks in her hair. She felt sexy, noticed and loved. It’s amazing what that can do for your fashion sense.    
     Willow placed her hands on Tara’s shoulders.“Still nothing?” She asked.“Nothing, it’s like I can’t, like I can’t see. I don’t get it”“Don’t worry baby, we can try some spells tomorrow to increase psychic vision. I’ll be your anchor this time.”Tara was grateful for her lover’s support. Her life had changed since meeting Willow. Not only did she now have friends, she had a family. Since her mother had died, in such a traumatic way, she had lost hope. It turned out that the light at the end of the tunnel had been Willow shaped. This was just one of the reasons why they communicated via light shows when they were separated. Willow’s words “I will always find you” replayed in her mind. Tara closed her eyes and felt Willow’s arms wrap around her.

 

Fuzzy feelings.

 

The next day started with a phone call from Xander.“Good morning my favourite Wiccas!” He bellowed down the phone.“H-h-h-hey Xander” Tara replied, still half asleep.“Giles has called an emergency Scooby meeting, bring your Wiccan butts over to his place”The line clicked off and Tara rolled over to find Willow, awake and smirking at her.“What’s the sitch?” she purred.“I-I-I-I don’t know, but Mr Giles said that it’s important, we should g-g-go” Tara replied. Her stammering had improved over the years, now it only occurred when she was nervous or stressed but most frequently, when lying next to Willow the way she was now.  
        Willow was sitting up, on one hand, her loose nightdress hanging off her body in silken ruffles. One of her breasts had broken free from the confines of the camisole and was now free to both distract and excited Tara. Vixen.Tara moved as if to leave the bed. The sheets rustled beneath her as he sat upright.“Is there an emergency?” Willow questioned, her voice deep and languid. “Do you have to rush off and cast a spell?”  
     Tara looked at Willow, her soft blue eyes meeting Willow’s emerald green. She took a second to admire the deep pulsating green, vivid and fresh as new life, flecked with gold. Vixen“W-w-w-willow, we should go, Mr-mr-mr-mr Giles will be cross if we’re late. Tara tried to excuse herself, as Willow slid across the bed, gently touching Tara’s arm. At this moment, Tara lowered her gaze and saw that Willow had tweaked, just ever so, her exposed nipple and it had increased in size. The soft but sharp pink made Tara bit her lip in anticipation. Willow moved and in one motion was on top of Tara. She could feel Willow’s wetness around her legs and the thought of her, primed and excited created emotions in Tara that she thought would nearly make her explode. Tara, realising now that protesting was as useful as a chocolate casserole dish, gave in to these feelings. Willow lay closer to her face and began to kiss her. Softly at first before building momentum and eventually passionately kissing her.

    Their mouths intertwined, connecting and desperate to taste each other. Beneath her, Tara felt her girlfriend gripping at her pyjamas. The soft felt material slowly being removed. Lowered, until she was exposed. Gasping as Willow entered her and arching her back slightly in ecstasy. Without realising, her own hand had found its way to Willow and was slowly entering her too. The young couple began to rock back and forth, delighting in each other’s manual stimulation. Kissing harder as they became more intense. A sweat had broken to the two witches and as momentum built their bodies shuddering in sweet release. The levitating bed, crashing to the floor, as both witches, rolled and writhed in orgasm. Vixen  
Tara took her time in the shower. Hot water washed over her and the soft bubbles from the soap she and Willow had made at the craft fair felt great on her skin. She paused for a moment and traced her fingers over the scar just above her heart. She remembered next to nothing about that day. The only thing that was clear was the excruciating pain of the bullet exerting her from behind and the sudden collapse and darkness that followed. She had awoken two weeks later in the hospital dazed and in a lot of pain. Willow had explained how a stray bullet had come through the window after Warren had attacked Buffy. Thankfully there had been no fatalities, or things could have turned out very different to how they are now. She thought about the effect that her death could have had on Willow, the very thought of it made her shudder. Turning the faucet off, she stepped out of the shower and onto the cold tile floors of the bathroom and readied herself for the day ahead. “Hey guys, sorry we’re late’ Willow announced, walking into Giles’ apartment. “What’s the emergenc…” her voice trailed off as she surveyed the room. Buffy was pacing back and forth. Xander sat as if posing for still life, Anya’s head against his shoulder, even Dawn was deep in thought in her usual spot.

  
“Giles?” Willow asked, her voice unable to hide the worry that she felt. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Faith” Buffy replied. “She’s dead.”

‘Dead? But how? I thought she was locked up in LA?”

“She is…was. We don’t know the full story, Angel called”

“Oh…well, I mean, yay! but also boo and hoo.”  

Willow and Faith had never had an easy relationship. they were often at odds with each other. The young witch favouring the safer approach to life, the rogue slayer preferring to walk the darker path. Exhilarating and dangerous. The thought of the raven-haired murderess stirred feelings in Willow that she didn’t necessarily understand. Part lust, part revulsion. She had often pictured herself in an intimate setting with Faith. Their lithe bodies writing together, her slayer strength pinning her down, forcing her to submit to her dark will. That was before she had met Tara, and long before she was out. Besides, Xander had already beaten her to the punch. “So I guess that means there’s a new Slayer” Tara added. Seemingly saying what everyone else was thinking, but not mentioning. “I guess” Buffy confirmed. Everyone in the room had, at times, wanted to see the back of Faith, but for some reason, her death had created a bubble. One in which no one was sure of their feelings and seemingly were unable to process the information. “Let’s just take the rest of the day to…I dunno, deal with this, and tomorrow, we start a slayer hunt. Whoever this girl is, we’ll need to find her, help her come to terms with this new calling and see if we can’t stop her going rogue.’ Giles mused. He knew all to well the dangers of a new slayer without a watcher. All that power and no direction. It could lead to blind ignorance or worse..murderous tendencies and body swapping. Either way, it was up to them to nurture this new power.

 

Back at the Summers’ residence, Willow and Tara were thumbing through mystical tomes. Tarot cards were strewn on the floor. “I think that’s why I couldn’t see earlier. I mean, I knew there had been a shift in the energies, but they hadn’t yet decided where they would settle. In a way, there wasn’t anything to see.” Tara surmised. Willow frowned. “I feel nauseous.” She complained. “Faith always makes me feel like this, now she’s dead and I still feel it. It’s strange” Tara stood up from her position on the floor. Walking slowly to Willow she reached her hand out to her lover. “I know, I mean, I never met her, but I know how she made you feel. It’s not exactly good news that she’s gone, but it’s not exactly bad either. She was dangerous, right? Now there’ll be a new slayer and things can get better. Buffy can re-enroll in college, Dawn can have more support from Buffy and we can have one less bad guy to worry about”. Willow smiled, Tara could always make her feel safe, just as she could for Tara. Embracing her girlfriend, she kissed her tenderly. “I love you” she whispered.

That night, Willow and Tara made love. Tara’s hot, sweet breath upon Willow’s neck as they caressed each other tenderly. Willow, nipping at Tara’s breasts and moaning in pleasure. Each time she gazed at her lover, she saw Faith’s face, five by five, red. The words rang her head like so many bells. Unable to shake her sick fantasy. yeah, red, five by fucking five. Willow’s obvious and loud climax resulted in her back arching in a way that made her think she would snap in half as she gasped in shuddering released.  
Tara placed her head on Willow’s chest. “You ok, baby?” she asked, concerned for Willow and wanting to be there in her.“Five by five” Willow murmured before falling into a deep sleep, unperturbed by her twisted fantasy.

 

************************************************************

 

Heart pounding she ran as fast as she could. Blood pumping, rushing around her body seemingly driving her, spurring her to escape. The heavy clump of footsteps racing behind her. Was this it? Was it the moment that she would die? No. She couldn’t. She must live, she must escape. She must run. Taking a sharp left down an alleyway she hid under the cover of darkness, trying her best to slow her breathing into regular methodical ins and outs. All she could hear was the sound of her blood pulsating, her veins and arteries, swollen with fear and adrenalin. The footsteps that had hunted her slowed. Her mind stilled. It was all she could do not to scream. But that wasn’t her. She wasn’t a screamer, and she certainly wasn’t afraid well, maybe a little, but she’d be damned to show it.  
     This was her moment, she should strike, attack, save her life. She made her decision, she was going to tackle this moron and show him who was boss. Suddenly, she felt dizzy. As if her bones and joints had turned to jelly. Her head spun and lights flashed in her eyes. As quickly as this feeling had overcome her, it was gone, but now she felt…different. More confident, surer. Strong. She lunged from her position, the full force of her body impacting with her follower. After knocking him over, she army-rolled into her next position. Again she lunged, fists flying, pummelling her assailant, knocking him backwards. She stood. Solitary but strong. Ready for her next move. He was quick though, already on his feet and running towards her, he swiped at her, causing her to lose her footing. She wobbled, struggling to find balance.

Why was her head so fuzzy?

Within an instant, he was behind her. His grip was strong, very strong. ‘No..’ she managed to resist but not for very long. Before she knew it, she felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her neck. what the fuck? she thought to herself, is this dude trying to fucking eat me? In an instant, she was on the ground.

“You!!” the man shouted. Seemingly recognising the taste of her. Her blood was sweet, like honey. Like the delicate nectar of some rare plant. “I always wanted to drink from the tap of a slayer."

Slayer? What the fuck is this dude’s deal? Pain. Excruciating pain, shooting through her body. Her neck was burning, it was as if molten lava was seeping out the two puncture holes her aggressor had made.

   With a jolt, she awoke from her sleep, instinctively placing her hand over the neck. Cool sheets wrapped around her and her tired eyes strained to focus on her surroundings. Nothing. There was something so vivid, so real about that dream. It was almost…prophetic. This is what she’d been warned about. What was coming and what she must run from or in this case, too. A long time ago she’d been told of her potential. The possibility of assuming the throne. The only way for that to happen would be if a slayer died. It was time. Her years of waiting were perhaps now drawing to a close. Could she really be next? She was a little older than the traditional 16-year-old potential.   
   Seemingly the slayer had outlived her predecessors. At the grand old age of 20, perhaps she’d be the oldest slayer called in history. Would that be her legacy? There was much to do and think about and very little time. She dropped to her knees and rummaged under her bed. The soft sheets brushing against her arm. The light was streaming through her windows illuminating the room and the undercarriage of her four-poster. When would be the next time she’d sleep in a bed like this? Would there even be a next time? Her hand looped through the handle of her messenger bag. She pulled it towards her and straightened herself up. Carefully unzipping the bag she steadied her nerves. She knew this day may come and she was ready…wasn’t she?

  
Ornate crosses and water bottles lay before her. If anyone had walked in they’d have thought she was off to a nunnery. That would be a pretty sweet deal. All those hot chicks in robes, full of guilt and needing comfort. No, she reminded herself. She wasn’t off to frolic in some teenage fantasy, she was off to one of the worst places in the world. Staring down at the wooden instruments and pointy paraphernalia she reached for the one thing she valued most out the accoutrements - A prepaid credit card.   
  
 The door of her closet swung open, inside were rows and rows of DKNY, Versace and Chanel. All beautiful and none to her taste. The dresses hung in plastic bags, rather like slabs of meat or dead bodies waiting to be placed horizontally into a gurney. Pushing them aside she reached into the back of the closet. Her hands for her favourite pair of red skinny jeans and a black cotton tank. She zipped up her ankle boots and instantly felt ready for the journey ahead. She stood up, swung the bag over her shoulder and walked towards the door. She briefly turned over her shoulder for one last glance. No matter what happened, even if she weren’t to be called, her life would change as soon as he walked out the door. She thought about climbing back into bed and pulling the covers over her head. But no. Now was not the time to show weakness or restraint. Now was her time to be strong. She’d always been fearless, but never strong.   
    Her parents were the 1% of the 1% so she had never any reason to be fearful. She could always blag her way out of most things or, failing that, her parents would make some sort of donation and the following autumn, she’d be sent to yet another elite boring school. But now she felt different. Ready. It was as if she had done what everyone else had been waiting for.

She had realised her potential.

 

Kennedy was moving to Sunnydale.


	2. The Prodigal Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kennedy has arrived in Sunnydale, but she's not exactly what she says she is.
> 
> We find out about Faith.

A light flickered at the end of the road. Heeled boot steps echoed across the empty street. Cars lined the sidewalk and there wasn’t a soul to be found save for the young Slayer. Stake in hand Buffy was on patrol. It was nights like these she relished the solitude that being a slayer brought her. Not everyone in her inner circle had somewhere to go, somewhere to be, a reason to live or a job to do. But she did. And what a job it was. One part devastation, one part cookies. Slaying was her gig, it was something she’d done for so long it was second nature. No, it was her nature. It was in her, part of her. It was her. It had taken some time to adapt to this, struggling with the idea of being a born killer. A word she had hated, and ultimately overcome. Something that could not be said about her contemporary. Faith was different. A total polar opposite to Buffy. Was that what was her downfall? All that time of building up bad karma after bad karma. Was that what killed her? Buffy hated Faith, but at the same time, she was the only person in the world who understood her. They were connected. Two souls sharing the same spirit. Two heads wearing the same crown. The realisation that Buffy still didn’t know how Faith had met her end hit her. Did she die fighting against the forces of hell? Clawing her way out of some dark hole infested with all kinds of nasties or did she die in disgrace. The thought of a slayer dying at the same hand she was meant to fight for nearly broke Buffy. All that was destined to be hers, theirs, has been ripped away from Faith. There was little that could be done to change it. Buffy adjusted the belt of her long trench and headed for the cemetery. Time to blow off some steam.

The cemetery was dead - pardon the pun - as Buffy walked between the headstones she stopped to turn on her senses. Hunting out the undead or whatever forces awaited her. Her ears prickled at the faint rustling emanating from the buses. She sensed the low, hushed breathing and took off in that direction. Silent and deadly she wove around the graves and debris on the ground, careful not to snap even the smallest of twigs. She hadn’t noticed the shadow moving behind her as she danced this dance of death. With a slam, she was thrown forward, swinging her head around to face her assailant she noticed his cut out eyes and dark robes. Two sharp knives glinting in the moonlight. Rising and assuming her stance she readied herself. Whatever it was it wasn’t a vampire, but she was ready. Trading blows she noticed how fast he moved. Striking her with lethal accuracy and speed. His robe swished with frantic intent as he landed another kick to her jaw.

“What the..?” she groaned, lights dazzling her eyes as she struggled to regain her focus.  
“Get the other one!” the assassin shouted to the darkness. There was more rustling from behind her as she slowly got to her feet.  
“This one is mine”  
He lunged towards her, flying through the air, knives brandished and heading straight for her. Rolling in desperation, Buffy slide out of his way and managed to land a kick to his hand. Disarming him gave her a second to regain composure and move. The first rule of Slaying; Don’t Die.

She ran. When all else fails, run. Sprinting towards the cemetery gates. Get back to the Magic Box, get the gang on this one. She didn’t know what she was up against but she knew that in numbers, lay strength. Yet again, she was taken down. Something had rushed her, something or someone different.

“Are you serious?” Buffy exhaled. “I’m going to have to get Giles to look into getting me a high Vis jacket for stakeouts. Apparently, no one can see me.”

“Get up and run,” The girl said to her “They’re coming back”

Buffy eyed the young girl who had rammed into her. She was around the same age as her and moved like…like Faith.

“Who are they?” Buffy questioned “And why are they here?. You need to tell me what you’ve done and why they’re chasing you”

“I’m Kennedy” The girl answered. “I’m the new Slayer. There’s no time, let’s split up, I’ll come and find you when you’re done.”  
“When I’m done?”   
Who does this girl think she is, and where did she get off making the plans? Buffy always made the plans, that’s why she did, she was the plan girl. Miss Plans.

“Yeah, when you’re done - killing them” and with that, she ran into the night. 

Buffy got up and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, she dialled Willow’s number.

“Hey Buffster” Willow trilled “What’s a cookin’?”  
“No time Will, I need you to get to the cemetery asap - there’s a situation. There are these things, I don’t quite know what they are, but they’re fast and the..agh!”

The flash startled Buffy causing her to step backwards and gasp.  
“It’s easier if i’m here” Willow Smiled. “So, fast you said? I can slow them down”

The young witch raised her arms, power crackled around her as she rose a few inches from the ground. As quickly as she has appeared so had the threat. They started running, dashing towards Buffy and her witch.

“Get that witch and cut out her tongue. Let’s see how good she is at casting spells with out her prayers.”

“Oh, I’m pretty good” Willow retorted, waving her hands. There was a low hum and then everything stopped. The assailants were frozen in mid air. Giving Buffy the opportunity to both search and dispatch them.

“Keep one alive,” Willow said “For information. Let’s head back to the Magic Box, I’ll see if Tara can track the girl”

********************************************

The branches scraped against Kennedy’s as she made her way through the woods towards town. She was alone and she wasn’t being chased - Buffy must have stopped the guys who were chasing her. Slowing her pace, she tried to adjust her eyes in order to set a course. Why was she so scared? She was a slayer, why was she out of breath, bleeding and cold? Wasn’t she meant to be built for this? After all, that was why she had…we’ll, now wasn’t the time to think about that. Maybe she had to pass some kind of test before her gifts were given to her. She knew what she had to do, she had to kill one of those things. Prove herself a slayer and then she’d be powerful. She hadn’t gone through everything she had to get to this point, hadn't done what she did to give it all up. This was her time and she wasn’t going to turn back now. Breathing deeply, she focussed herself and turned back towards the cemetery.   
Kennedy pulled out out her phone and checked her messages - nothing.   
“I guess they really don’t care after all” she murmured.  
She was in trouble now though. It wouldn’t be long before those guys, or the law caught up with her and she needed her slayer abilities if she were to have any chance of surviving the next few weeks. In the distance, her eyes spotted a brilliant, but small light zipping through the trees and coming towards her. She ducked in order to hide herself amongst the shrubbery as the light skimmed over her head and then stopped. Kennedy raised her arms to shield from the illumination, golden and blue light spilling over the floor and lighting the woods.

“Follow me” The light spoke in a low and breathy “I’ll guide you back”  
“What the actual fuck” Kennedy stated. As if she was about to just follow some magical flashlight into God knows what.  
The light seemed to laugh. “I’m Tara” it spoke again “I’m Buffy’s friend, we’re waiting for you”  
Kennedy hesitated, could she trust this voice, this light? Her options weren’t looking great right now. Her slayer skills hadn’t kicked in yet and she needed to get out of these words, fatigue had set in and she didn’t fancy her chances with the guys who had attacked.  
“You can trust me” The light spoke again “We want to help you”  
Kennedy sighed, defeated. it was this light, or nothing.

  
“Ok, take me where I need to go."

 

***************************************************************

The magic box hummed with energy. The whole gang was there, as usual. Dawn was propped up against a book case n the floor, Xander and Anya were dancing behind the counter. Tara glanced at them, after coming round from her locater spell, she had cleared the slight amount of mist from her head and reacclimatised with her surroundings. Buffy and Willow weren’t back yet and for a few fleeting moments, Tara felt incredibly happy and proud to be were she was. For just a while, she was the most powerful person in the room. Ever since she had stuck by Willow, weaned her off the dark magicks and helped defeat the evil trio everything had turned out ok. Xander and Anya had moved on from the disaster that was to be their wedding. They both realised that a piece of paper did not define them and agreed that they should stop trying to label themselves and just do what they had always done - be in love.  
“Hey Dawnie?” Tara called out “Buffy will be back soon, so make sure you're all packed up, she’ll probably be pretty beat and will want to go home. Do you need me to check your homework sweetie?”

  
“No” came Dawn’s sullen reply. A lot had changed since last year and Tara wasn’t all that sure that Dawn had fully slotted into life at the New Sunnyvale Hight, or seeing Willow lose it and the drama with Pike and Buffy. It was a tough year but they had got through it as they always had - together. Dawn slammed her books into her bags, making as much noise as possible. In an effort to avoid an argument, Tara smiled at her and passed her some papers that were sprawled out on the table in front of her.   
“I found that girl, the one Willow asked me to” Tara reasoned that filling Dawn in on some of the less threatening information of the situation would assuage her feelings of discontent and help to make her feel more part of the group. As someone who struggled with this feeling before, Tara knew how Dawn was feeling. “She should be here soon, and even though she’s 20, she’ll need to be filled in on some of the aspects of what we do. Buffy and the others will be busy, so I think you’ll be bringing her up to speed.” Dawn perked up, finally. She was being treated like an adult, she’d been here for nearly two years, she’d been kidnapped by evil hell God’s, staked her first kiss and been possessed countless times. When was Buffy, and the gang going to see that she was ready?  
  
“Oh yeah?” She had to fight to stop from cracking with excitement “I mean…sure, I’m sure Buffy will be happy to have me out of the way again.”  
“Dawnie - This has to stop, we need to put last year behind us and move on. We all have, and you need to too. You’re no help when you're stroppy and-“ Tara was interrupted by the ringing of the Bell that hung over the door. “Willow? Is that you? I tracked that girl and she should be here-“ Tara called out before realising she was neither being listened to or speaking to Willow.

  
“You must be Tara, I’m Kennedy. The Next Slayer.


	3. Faith and Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A backstory to Faith's time in prison.

A few weeks ago.

 

How long had Faith been in this hole? It felt like eternity. Every day was torture, hell. She had been so strong, so powerful. She had had friends and a way to keep herself clean. How had she managed to fall so far, so hard? She had tried to find herself on the right path, it had worked for a while, but it was inevitable. She needed to atone, to absolve herself. Running the streets and slaying was not the way she had to do it. She had to be confined, to process and ultimately heal. 

Prison wasn’t too bad she reasoned. It helped when you were the fastest and strongest amongst the jailbirds. She has risen through the ranks pretty quickly, but rather than smuggling in contraband and punishing her cellmates she had decided to protect the most vulnerable in this stinking pit. A young girl had recently arrived, dishevelled and scared. She spent most of her time hiding in her cell, only coming out for food and then scurrying away to eat in peace. a few of the other inmates had taken a particular disliking to her, accusing her of thinking she was too good to eat with them.   
“Too posh for prison, honey?” They had teased her. Pushing and shoving at any opportunity they had. Faith recognised that this girl did not belong here. She wasn’t hard like the others. She was meek, shy and not at all confrontational. Where Faith had guts, this girl did not and where Faith had the ability to smack down nearly any obstacle, this girl just seemed to run into them. Slowly but surely, Faith had attempted to bring the girl out of her shell, to reassure her that things would be different if she aligned herself with they young slayer.

“Listen, I know you don’t know me and you sure as hell don’t owe me anything but I can help you. See, some of these gals, just aren't like you. And it’s not that they hate you they just come from the different side of town than you. But me, well, let’s just say I got a lot more in common with this lot than I should. But I’ve earned their respect and now they leave me alone. You need to do the same. What are you in for, shoplifting MAC? Not going bed when your nannies told you?”

The girl lifted her head and looked at Faith “Fraud, I scammed a couple of my Dad’s credit cards. He pissed me off so I thought where better to hit him than his pockets. That and I kinda got my friend addicted to dark magic, caused a car accident and some other things…” She looked away, Faith knew not to push it.  
“Dark Magick?” Faith questioned, she had never met a witch who was so open about her practice. The secrets of Wicca were usually confined to devotees, rarely divulged to those who were not in the circle. Faith knew a little about magic, having spent time with Buffy and her Witch, Willow, and that one time she had met Willow’s girlfriend, Tara.   
“Give it up, I know you're a Slayer, 1+1= Faith, right? Don’t worry, I won’t say anything, not that anyone in this shit hole would give a damn anyway. They’d probably just think it was your gang name. I know Buffy too, we went to high school together. She killed my Mom, but the bitch had it comin’ I’m Amy, Amy Madison. We never had the chance to meet, I was a rat for the past few years and now I’m the new resident Witch of LA County Jail. I’ve got a thing for confined spaces.”

“Oh man,” Faith exclaimed, running her hand through her hair and sighing. “If you know Buffy, then I’m in trouble. It’s been over a year with no talk of magic, slayers and B. Now some witch from Sunnydale pops up in my cell, can only mean one thing”  
“Something’s coming” Amy Whispered “Something bad, and I’d rather be near a Slayer when it does.”  
The days dragged here. The two things that Faith looked forward to were her more than regular smoke breaks and yard time with the punching bags. Ever since she had stopped fighting and slaying her muscles ached with her power. She needed an outlet, preferably a healthy one. Faith had been spending her days with Amy and things seemed to have improved for the Witch. After a particularly violent encounter in the showers, the other cellmates had backed off from her. Faith liked it like that, it gave her time to talk to someone from the same world as her. Someone who had struggled with the darkness and was trying to set themselves right. Amy listened, she gave good advice and she was just as sorry as Faith was for the wrongs she had caused. 

Flopping on the bed, Amy sighed.  
“I think it’s time we got out of here”  
“No way. No how. I’m staying chica. Gotta atone for my crimes, get myself sorted. It’s the best thing for me.”  
“Don’t you miss it though? The outside? I was stuck in a cage for years. Now I’m here, I miss it. Good coffee, proper bedding. Doing magic whenever I want and partying. God, I miss music.”  
Amy had a point, but it wasn’t exactly to Faith’s way of thinking. She had promised Angel and herself that she would do this. Slaying brought out parts of her that she’d rather not encounter. The desire to hunt, to kill was unbearable. Her bloodlust was practically unquenchable and even the smallest amount could send her back to the dark days. Controlled by her own isolation and fear.  
“Sure I miss it, but I’m in here and that’s just how it-“

The room shook with such force that Faith lost her footing.

“What the-?”

“Oh no,” Amy remarked, startled ‘They’re here”. Peering out of her cell door, Faith saw hooded figures sweeping through the rubble, cutting down anyone in the way. Slashing and stabbing their way through the numbers of inmates as the guards looked on in horror. Too paralysed with fear to run, to numb to realise they were next. Blood pooled at the door to her cell and seeped its way in. The hooded figures had no eyes but managed to strike with lethal accuracy. The likes of which Faith had never seen.

“Who are they? What are they? We gotta move”  
“Bringers” Amy explained “Servants of the first. You know why they’re here.”  
“Yeah and I’m not sticking around for it. Get us out of here, now”

The door, banged as the bringers tried to smash their way in. Amy swept her hand over the concrete wall, the years lay on the other side. Chanting and muttering, she prayed to the Dark Ones for the wall to crack. To let some force spilt the stone and provide passage.

“C’mon, c’mon!” Faith yelled, the steel door showing signs of giving. “Get us out of here, there’s too many and I’m not armed.”

With a crack, the wall split and then exploded outward, there was a rush of air and then they were running, Amy blasting her way through fence after fence, Faith leaping and jumping, wind whipping through her hair and across her face. Adrenaline had kicked in along with her slayer skills. Her focus now was to survive. Nothing else mattered.  
“Where to?” Faith called out.  
“I know a place, we’ll be safe there”

Faith pushed on until she had cleared the final fence. Standing on the perimeters of the prison she realised Amy was right. 

She had missed this.


End file.
